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Don't you hate that feeling?

You know? The feeling that you should kill yourself because life is totally pointless?

So dig this (it's dug, mother fucker!). I have just recently broken out of one of the worst Existential attacks in recent memory. I was staring at some of my recent finished work (it's the best I've ever done, I mean, everything has been building to this set of work) about a month and a half ago. I was just reveling in everything. But little did I know that that feeling of Absurdity was waiting patiently with it's fist out just behind me. And I turned right into the fucking thing.

So from then until earlier today I was a miserable wretch. So held down by the human condition that every emotion I could possibly have was heightened. And what emotion could I possibly have with the feeling of Absurdity? That's right, depression. I was on the brink of suicide so many times that some of my more caring friends were trying to get the men in the white coats to come and get me. It was so horrid that I almost didn't go an hour without weeping uncontrollably.

tl;dr: Feeling of Absurdity, hated existence, wanted to die.

I think it's about time to read The Myth of Sisyphus again.

Anti complaint: I've moved my work to a larger studio. Better light, heat and A/C, and tons of space including a room for storing dried paintings.

I was on anti dep meds a few years back. Saved my life. I might have to again some day, and I'm ok with that. These days my emotional base line is a positive safe sort of feeling.When I was ill, my base line was exhausted misery.The meds did that. They got me my brain chemistry back.

Life is an absurd phenomenon. Lifeless atoms conjoined together to form something as miraculous and meaningless as life, and it somehow gained the sentience to the point in which it was capable of creating fiction, then comparing it to their own existence and realizing it's own lack of plot, story line, and meaning. The only thing more absurd than that is that is the fact that the only thing killing you right now is the sentience that created and defined you.

My advice; embrace the absurd.

This... all of this... is dumb. Something as complex and improbable as us left to our own devices with no plan or guidelines save for our collective attempts at fiction and meaning. But now that we're here and we're not dead yet, why not make the best of a silly situation? (after all, sentience does have its perks.)

and so what if we're stupidly insignificant compared to the rest of the universe? The only thing that i can think of that values significance is people. If you're worried at how significant you are compared to what the universe would think, rest assured; the rest of the universe doesn't really care how significant something is.

Existence is a weird thing, especially when you're self-aware to the point of realizing it. But hey; you're surrounded by people feeling that exact same humanity/sentience/awareness-of-existence as you are. Some of those people even like you.

and if atoms managed to stay together long enough to form enough cells to maintain a form of life intelligent enough to contemplate existence, and then decided that it liked you, i'd say that's pretty fucking significant.

I've embraced the Absurd. I've told a few people this here, Camus's The Myth of Sisyphus gave me the courage to live. It is about the Absurd Paradox (Man wanting Logic and Understanding having to exist in a Universe that gives neither).